One of the scariest things in the early days of my diagnosis is that the pathology was unclear. Best case scenario, the cancer was contained. Worst case scenario, it had spread beyond what they could imagine. This fear was heightened by the fact that all the normal tests that catch cervical cancer failed to detect mine. I was diagnosed long after they usually diagnose women. And that terrified every medical professional I saw.
Suffering takes the wind out of you. It clouds your view of what’s true and what’s imagined. It leaves you in the dark, feeling your way forward in search of light.
Suffering has a way of making you feel like God has left you. Your head speaks a better word, but your heart can’t comprehend it. Your eyes see the carnage of the trial, even though your faith tells you this can’t mean he doesn’t care.
Where is God in these moments? How do you find him?
Live long enough and people will disappoint you. Maybe it’s a teacher you looked up to who spirals out of control. Or a parent who raised you turns away from the faith. In our current moment, many are reeling from disappointment from pastors, church leaders, or spiritual mentors. Where do you turn when people turn from you—or from God?
I re-entered the workforce in 2020. (Crazy, right?) While it was a great opportunity and a remote position, it still brought up a lot of new rhythms and emotions our family had to navigate. I had always done some sort of work, but up to that point I was freelance. I was my own boss. I pulled back when needed because I accepted projects based on what our family could handle. Saying “yes” to a job meant saying “no” to that sort of flexibility.
Ask any mom who works outside the home, and she will tell you that going back into the workforce brings up all the mom feelings. Whether you’re a first-time mom and your maternity leave is winding down, or you’ve been out of the workforce for a few years and are stepping back into it, taking that first step feels like a mix of excitement and dread.
One of the scariest things in the early days of my diagnosis is that the pathology was unclear. Best case scenario, the cancer was contained. Worst case scenario, it had spread beyond what they could imagine. This fear was heightened by the fact that all the normal tests that catch cervical cancer failed to detect mine. I was diagnosed long after they usually diagnose women. And that terrified every medical professional I saw.
We went to church yesterday for the first time since early March. In many ways it was surreal. We are still in the early phase of the re-opening, so a lot is different. The most important things have remained the same, but a lot of the familiar is gone. Even with the familiar gone, it did us all a lot of good to be back after such a long time away. I can’t remember the last time I was so excited to do something!
“I want to go back to life before.”
This was the sentence I uttered to Daniel in the first couple of weeks after my sudden hysterectomy.
One day I was awaiting results from a routine exam. Within weeks I was longing for the days of routine, instead I was trying to process the words: “You have cancer.”
We have some trees in our front yard that Daniel pruned many months ago. After he took to them with the pruning shears, the trees were barely recognizable. Even our children were shocked at their nakedness. It was glaringly obvious that no sign of life was coming from those trees anytime soon.
“I think this will work,” he said.
It’s been a long season of revelation in our culture, one where everywhere you turn someone is being outed for behaving badly. Even within a matter of days, this post will be old news. And since I write most of my posts/articles over the course of months, this post is already dated. But sadly, new revelations are always coming to the surface about sin, abuse of power, and women being hurt. So in many ways, talking about how women are treated in our culture is an evergreen topic—from the Bible until today.
The Galatian Christians were tempted to go back to bondage. They wanted the comforts of the law, not the nuances of grace. They wanted the structure that the law afforded them, not the freedom that grace afforded them. Grace took away their own ability to do anything to save themselves. What they missed is that the law did the very same thing.
People say “time flies when you are having fun,”—so we must have had the most fun of all these last ten years. In one sense, it seems like yesterday. But in another sense, it’s hard to remember my life before Daniel was in it (and I lived 25 years before he was in it!). But if I could think of one verse to capture our life these last ten years it would be Isaiah 55:8:
